


poooooooopoopopopoopoopopopopopopopopopopopo

by madeinchinainkorea



Category: lijqekadf.m, qeadls.dqwsa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25394782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeinchinainkorea/pseuds/madeinchinainkorea
Kudos: 1





	poooooooopoopopopoopoopopopopopopopopopopopo

**"SHIT, SHIT,** **SHIT."**

It was no understatement to say that Vera, Wilbur and Adam were very, _very_ late. That was all thanks to Adam Aquino's pathetic attempts at navigating through New York City's evening rush-hour traffic and taking every opportunity he got to shout and swear at every passing pedestrian he saw, even if they weren't in his way. That was something Vera snorted about to Wilbur, knowing that the fool was acting as though his fifteen-dollars-and-a-hot-dog salary was the equivalent of three hundred gummy laxatives jars.

The car door slammed shut behind them, followed by the squeak of the vehicle locking as the trio hobbled their way across the pebble-paved pavement. The venue itself lay in an ivory circus-Esque tent, hidden behind shrubs and birch trees, branches entangled with fairy light. The soft hum of jazz resonated from the tent, leaking out from the small gaps in the fabric as people slithered their way in and out. To add to the humble splendour, a pink limousine rested beside the marquee and was decorated with masks of Carson's face taped to several of the windows.

Adam, by now, had dashed in and disappeared into the party.

"Heh, I guess it really is a _Car-son_." Wilbur's joke landed pitifully.

Vera pursed her lips together in disappointment. "Damn, you got the whole squad laughing Wilbur."

"Oh, don't be such a party-pooper," Wilbur snapped back, brushing aside her dismay. "Now, before we go in, you better listen to me, alright? You better not start anything tonight, no drama, no silly arguments, no 'I'm-gonna-rip-your-intestines-out-and-make-them-into-a-kebab' sorta shit, okay?" He didn't even have to mention a name.

Vera rebuffed him nonchalantly. "Yeah, yeah, 'course not. Nothing ain't gonna happen."  
  


"Famous last words..." Wilbur uttered, shaking his head.

"Wilbur, I mean it you know. Put all your faith in me, alright? I'll occupy my time by avoiding him and drinking away my sorrows at the bar." Vera told him, desperately trying to ignore the small voice in her head. It told her if she didn't exactly have faith in herself then how on earth could Wilbur have faith in her? "I hate him alright, so you got nothing to worry about."

Unconvinced (and rightly so) Wilbur slowly nodded. "Right. Yeah, of course, you will..." Vera quirked a brow at him in confusion. "Oh, come on, Vera. You're underage, you idiot. Generally, in America, becoming an alcoholic here before you turn five is frowned upon."

"You see, that's where you're wrong." Vera flashed a smirk at him, before digging through her purse and whipping out her fake ID card. 

Wilbur looked impressed now. " _Oh_. I see... you're turning into a dirty crime boy now, are you? Where'd you even get that?"

"Eh," she shrugged and replied ominously. "I know a guy, who knows a guy." 

"You mean you gave Elijah a fiver and a Red Bull?"

" _Yeahhh_." 

Deciding to make their fashionably late entrance, Wilbur swiftly pushed aside the curtained entrance and revealed the warm luminescence inside. Hubbubs of streams chatted away in indistinct conversations, whilst others had opted to linger suspiciously around the buffet, and some were battling to the death at the gaming console set up in the corner. It was an atmosphere Vera hoped to enjoy that night. Whether it be mingling around and making small talk, lazily relishing in booze at some of the small tables set up around the place, or of course, pigging at the buffet. 

"Holy fucking shit, they've got a bloody chocolate fountain!" Vera really did try her best to hide her childlike wonder at a stupid chocolate fountain. 

He snorted. "You'd better not let Adam catch you there. He'd be shoving those laxatives down your ruddy throat like nobody's business."

"If I even get a fucking glimpse at Adam tonight, I'll shove my foot so up his fucking arse that he'll━"

"Vera! Wilbur!" The man-of-the-hour called, gleaming at her from across the tent. Carson King had made his appearance, kitted out in a tuxedo that contrasted firmly with the giant neon pink badge he wore, proudly proclaiming it was his birthday. Wilbur and Vera welcomed him with open arms and bright smiles, glad to finally meet him in person. "Well, isn't this just some timing for you? Honestly, we half thought you wouldn't turn up but thank God you're both finally here."

Wilbur side-eyed his vicinity, making sure Adam Aquino wasn't near. "Well, you can blame that on our very, _very_ trusty photographer."

Vera kissed her teeth, flying over a scowl to the man fiddling with a tripod. "God, he's such a fucking arsehole. Trust me, unless you want to end up shanking someone, I advise you don't go anywhere near the flying dick."

"Noted," Carson strongly nodded. "What's in the bag?" He motioned over to the crumpled Tesco's bag clutched in Wilbur's palm.

"A bog roll," Vera remarked, only to earn a confused look from Carson. "It's your birthday gift man! Honestly, did you really think we'd show up late _and_ empty-handed?"

Gratitude fell upon Carson's face. "Ooh. You wanna share what you got or keep it a surprise or...?"

"Marmite," Wilbur answered quickly, shoving the bag into his hand and trying to stifle his laughter. "It's a brilliant, fantastic delicacy from England that we bought especially for you! It's eaten daily with every meal and is one of your five a day. Best thing in the world." Sarcasm reeked from every word as Vera chuckled away. 

"Ah, yeah. Okay." Carson, clearly unsure, moved away for a few moments and placed the shopping bag in the vast pile of presents slowly building up in the corner. Their Tesco bag compared to the other gifts was rather meagre. Vera couldn't help but recoil slightly at how underwhelming it must've seemed to Carson. There were at least five Gucci boxes in the pile for crying out loud!

"Feel a bit stupid now..." Vera uttered, avoiding eye-contact with Carson. Wilbur spirits had seemed to drop too.

"No! No... don't feel stupid!" Carson assured them, entirely sincere. "I don't wanna sound ungrateful or anything, but half of the shit in that pile I'll probably never use. I mean, I've got four different watches tonight and now, I'm kinda offended. To be honest, I'm pretty tempted to re-sell some stuff on eBay with Schlatt's help."

_Right. Schlatt,_ Vera painfully reminded herself with a sour face. Thankfully, she had yet to even catch a whiff of him that night. 

"Speaking of..." Wilbur's eyes had clapped onto the figure looming towards the trio so quickly that it gave Vera a run for her money. He'd hardly had time to not-so-subtly nudge her rib as a command to tell her to go before Jonathan Schlatt sauntered over.

"Quick! Pretend to have a heart attack or something..." Vera uttered, nudging him back.

" _Me?_ " Wilbur scoffed, scorning at her idea. "You're the one who's in love with him for crying out loud! Don't you think it'd be a teensy bit more fitting?"

Vera was dangling on the last of her patience by the time he'd finished. "I ain't in love with him, you bloody moron━"

Schlatt's appearance by Carson's side had sewn her mouth shut and she recoiled so quickly that it couldn't have been more obvious that she was talking about him. And of course, nothing could've seemed more obvious by how Vera gawped at him with a half-gaped mouth and an expression that could've only spelt awe and slight intimidation. As expected, Schlatt bore the tux he said he would, styled so elegantly across his figure that there wasn't even a crinkle that needed to be ironed out. Though his collar stood a little too high upon his freckled neck and made him look slightly like a vampire vicar, Vera had to admit how good he appeared. He could've easily blended in with the sea of tuxedo-wearing men surrounding them if it wasn't for his messy-ish hair that curled loosely around his forehead.

She swallowed.

"Wilbur! How are ya?" Schlatt made idle small talk with her fellow British person before finally addressing her. Or at least, what seemed like he was addressing her. He just seemed to look at her with a standoffish look grazed upon his face.

"Schlatt." She curtly nodded.

"Vera." He nodded back, the tension so thick that was almost unbearable and Vera wished she was swallowed whole into the floor. 

Carson and Wilbur exchanged unsure glances before finally taking the initiative to do something so they wouldn't be standing in complete silence for the remainder of the night.

"Drinks!" Wilbur exclaimed, pushing onto Vera's back. "Why don't you get us some drinks? Wine, will be fine, right? I mean, you can legally drink alcohol so let's celebrate! Go on, Vera... quickly now, go get the biggest bottle of wine you can find. Have fun." He feigned the biggest smile he could muster and waved her off on her trek to the bar.

Seeing as Vera probably wouldn't be able to cope with keeping her mouth shut for long (and since Wilbur was her moral compass) she complied. Vera was three steps into her hobble over to the bar as Schlatt's distinct voice uttered something along the lines of 'help her' and 'go with'. She could practically see the droop on Wilbur's face mixed in with panic as he knew damn well there was no stopping Schlatt. The best she could do was try and escape, but alas, it was too late and the both of them ended up at the bar, standing in an awkward silence as they awaited the appearance of the bartender.

Drumming her fingernails along the wood, she tried to repress the feeling that she was being watched. Whether it be by either a cautious Wilbur or Schlatt scrutinizing her appearance in the second-hand dress, she knew the best solution would be to choke ten litres of alcohol down her throat and completely forget about either of them.

Breaking the dull and scathing silence, Schlatt dubiously cleared his throat. "I, uh," he said, not exactly sure how to begin. "I would like to uh, formally apologise, I guess..."

Vera's eyebrows jolted up to her hairline in disbelief. " _What_?" There were many things he could apologise for, whether that be starting a shouting match in the middle of Walmart, or laughing at her when Vera had bled all over his shoes, or of course, his existence in general, or━

"Ya heard me." Schlatt neither held his jokey tone, or the tone that he used when he was making fun of her. "I'm sorry. I _apologise_."  
  


"Oh, God." Vera barely stifled her gasp. Either he'd been bonked in the head, or he'd just learned that he had a very, very rare incurable disease and was going to devote his life to God. Now that the first 'serious' conversation had finally happened between her and Schlatt, Vera hoped that it would _never_ happen again. "Where's all this come from then?"

He shrugged. "I have lupus."

"Oh, _God_. I knew it."

Schlatt held such a look of bewilderment it was almost amusing. "Christ! Of course, I don't have lupus ya moron! Honestly, ya ━ you...!" Vera was ashamed at herself for even remotely believing that Schlatt actually had _lupus_. "Look anyway, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, that's all. I ain't come here to start anythin' with ya. Now, what do ya want to drink?" He vaguely mentioned over to the barman, who looked as though he'd just heard their entire situation. 

"You heard what Wilbur wants. A big bottle of wine." Vera muttered. 

Schlatt pursed his lips together. "Oh, _please_... we both know that he sent ya here to get away from me."

"Hmmm, I wonder why that is..."

"Shut up ya broad." He snorted. "Can we get water and whatever wine ya got, please?" He spoke to the bartender.

Vera scowled. "Oi, I don't want a wine. Why'd you order that for?"

It took him a moment to respond, as though he was pondering if what he was about to say was a good thing to say. "Ya... well, you're actually ━ and God fuckin' forgive me for sayin' this ━ but you're actually kinda tolerable to be around when you're drunk. _Kinda_."

For whatever reason, Vera couldn't help but get inexplicitly pleased that Schlatt found her tolerable when she was drunk ━ even if it was only a 'kind of' tolerable.

"Well," Vera started, not able to shake the smile off her face. A bottle of wine and water arrived by their side and as she poured the wine into her glass, she continued. "Cheers to that!" Their glasses linked together and Vera's small draught from her glass, turned quickly into a chug. 

They spent the next fifteen minutes of their time sipping (or in Vera's case desperately choking) on their drinks and not speaking. Seemingly, they'd both thought it best not to talk before an argument broke out and the tentative looks Wilbur was casting over to them from across the room certainly wasn't helping. Maybe she did want to prove Wilbur wrong and show that she could have a conversation with Schlatt without strangling him to death. Or perhaps, by that point, the alcohol had fizzed up all sensible reasoning.

"Hey, Schlatt," she began, swirling the wine around her glass. "You know what..."

"Hmm?"

Vera hesitated for a moment, taking another swig of her wine. "I think you'd be a pretty fucking shit dancer, y' know? Like you just ain't built for it," her eyes dragged slowly across his body, taking every moment in her stride and knowing that it had to be the best opportunity to just _stare_.

"Pfft, ya don't know what you're sayin', dumbass. 'Course I can fuckin' dance!" Schlatt exclaimed at her, a grin pressed on his face as he showed off his legs. Her sight was latched onto them. "Look at these absolute babies."

"Oh, would you look at that, thank the fucking lord! You're finally not wearing those goddamn Timbs!" Vera gleamed down at the lack of his Timbs ━ it was awfully therapeutic to see Schlatt without the giant bricks taped to his feet. But, Vera barely bit back the urge to let out a snide remark about how _odd_ he looked without them. 

Schlatt scowled. "Not this again... seriously Vera, d'ya honestly think I'm that fuckin' stupid to wear Timbs with this outfit?"

"I mean," she shrugged, tossing back the remainder of her wine. " _Yeah_ , you are. You've got some kinda fucking Timberland complex and if that doesn't say something about your cracked head, I dunno what does."

"Oi, just 'cause we're banned from havin' a goddamned catfight in here, don't mean I won't drag ya round the back of an alley later." Schlatt wagged a stern finger in her face.

Vera's nostrils flared, audibly gagging. "Bloody nonce, you are. Honestly, I'd rather see you try and dance than have you kidnap me in a back-alley."

"Listen up, Vera... I'm a fuckin' immaculate dancer, the sexy lady on the Wii Fit even said so!" Schlatt was oozing pride at the fact a bunch of pixels (that made up a considerably nice-looking bottom) had told him he was a good dancer. Vera had never heard more utter bullshit in her life, and that was coming from someone who'd just spent the last two hours crammed into a car with Adam Aquino.

"Yeahhh, sure you are..." Vera had almost given him a pitiful pat on the back, before stopping herself. She was getting too comfortable around him, or as her mind alarmed her with ringing bells: _danger, goddamn fucking danger!_

"You don't believe me, huh?" The smugness from him was almost unbearable.

Sheer disbelief fell upon her face. " _No_. Of course I don't, you wasteman."

"Wow... your lack of confidence in me is really kinda shittin' on my self-esteem right now, Vera." 

"Awhhh," she cooed. "That sounds like a _you_ problem... if you want my confidence (and good fucking luck getting that) you'll have to prove it."

Panic collided onto Schlatt's face, though he desperately tried to play it off with a weird-looking grin. A beat passed. "Fine! I'll fuckin' prove it then."  
  


Schlatt oiled his away onto the dance floor, leaving his drink at the bar and he not once broke his gaze with Vera, only filling her stomach with a sensation of dread. Eagerly, he wiggled up his bowtie and began to dance ━ well, what could've been considered dancing a for a one-legged, epileptic hamster. Was it Vera's imagination or did the dull roar of conversation falter as Schlatt began to dance? He swirled and shimmed around, rolling his wrists and jiggling up and down as he pulled a cabbage patch move. Schlatt quickly morphed into a mortifying attempt at a twerk, though it looked as though he was getting his back broken. Then to top of the giant abhorrent-filled cake, Schlatt pulled an odd sprinkler move, balancing on one leg and jerking around as though Satan had ruptured his intestines and he had vicious dogs clawing at his ankles as he pathetically tried to regain his balance and not capsize onto the floor.

Vera's eyes were cemented to the way he moved and she was shivering half in embarrassment and half trying to hold back the tears prickling at her eyes. Her chest was heaving greatly and Vera had her hands falling onto her knees in an attempt to try and regain any sensible thoughts and just to stop herself from fucking toppling onto the floor and crying herself to death in laughter.

"Please stop! Stop! Stop! I'm fuckin' begging you Schlatt, please stop!" She was hardly audible under the sound of her raucous laughter interrupting every word she spoke.

Schlatt finally stopped his endeavour and returned to her side, breathless and his face flushing from the amount of exercise he'd just done. His hands were sinched into his waist, regaining strength to muster out anything other than 'Water, please, water!'.

Vera had gained control over herself and scarcely stifled her chuckles. Mocking him, she started. " You alright there, Mr 'Oooh, yeah I can dance. Oooh, yeah look at me haha, I can twerk ha ha'."

"That's ━ what ━ I ━ fuckin' ━ did!" Schlatt gasped between deep breaths. Vera couldn't help but enjoy the sight of seeing him so worn out and took the next few seconds to gaze as he wasn't paying attention.

She left him time to catch his breath and regain his energy, before suggesting a proposition of her own. "Well, after that fucking mess, I━"

"Oh, please. Don't act like ya dumbass could do any better." Schlatt scoffed, glaring at her and unimpressed.

"You know what Schlatt, I absolutely fucking could."  
  


"Well, go on then. Ya stage awaits, fool." Schlatt lazily gestured over to the dance floor. 

Vera paused, half considered doing it by herself but a small voice in her head decided it was best not to. "Come and join me then, let's bust a move together." She knew that the was a fine dancer but Schlatt was an entire trainwreck and dancing with him would be something she could tease him about for the rest of eternity.

He took a moment to consider before finally giving in. "I, well... alright then. Show me what ya got."  
  
  


They laced their way onto the floor just as the soft hum of jazz blissfully smothered the room. For a moment, neither of them knew exactly what they intended to dance together, but nevertheless, Vera persisted and in a small murmur she asked for Schlatt to grab onto her and they'd go from there. What she didn't expect was for Schlatt to reel her in, grasping onto her waist as his fingertips drummed delicately against the thin fabric of her silk dress. Vera bristled, losing all sense of thought. Oh, _God_. The alarm bells were off again but instead of listening to her often right gut, she completely ignored it. Schlatt was watching her now carefully, his eyes so brown and glittering under the warm light of the fairy lamps above them. Vera swayed just a little closer, one hand reaching for his high shoulder and the other lightly latching onto his open palm, and her heart pounded so hard she could feel it thudding against her throat.

The teenager in her couldn't help but awaken as they awkwardly wrenched their way around a four-metre space. The perky voice in her head was violently having some sort of heart attack at the thought of _'oh God, I'm holding hands with him, this is so fucking weird'_ and _'wow, he smells very... yes. God save me.'_ and of course, _'Well, isn't this fairly tolerable. Honestly, I should do this━ fuck!'._

"Shit! You bloody bastard!" Vera exclaimed as a very loud crunch rang out between the pair as Schlatt's feet crushed upon her own.

"Ah, sorry 'bout that. As ya know, I am a very fuckin' terrible dancer." His breath was brushing against her earlobe and the shudder that slithered down Vera's back almost sent her flying out of the window.

Despite the various different injuries they both garnered during their dance, and the multiple insults thrown between each other, Vera couldn't help but let a small grin glide its way upon her face. She didn't know if it was the alcohol affecting her, or the silliness of having a strange hybrid ballroom dance with Schlatt or how close they were standing now. Oh, _God_. Vera became aware at that moment of just _how close_ they were standing. This was far too close for comfort, far too close for her mind to function without all her organs firing up like a tank going into war. Far too close. How if she just took one small step closer and tilted her head up as she stood up on her tiptoes, she'd be able to brush her lips against _━_

"James Charles!" Schlatt declared with sheer euphoria. "Oh my fuckin' God! James, it's me! Oh God, oh my fuckin' God. It's James fuckin' Char..." 

His sentence faded into the hubbub of the party as he left. Schlatt had practically flung Vera out of his way, taking no regard as to where she was going to land when he lurched her off him. Vera narrowly dodged a giant tray of profiteroles and some poor sod on crutches.

Completely lost for words at what she'd just done and just fucking thought, Vera sank pitifully into a seat at a random table. The moment broke like a thin sheet of ice and the cold reality of what the fuck she’d just done washed over him. This, this right here was why she didn’t drink. Because she did incredibly and inexcusably stupid things. Such as buy tickets for a random trip to America and even _think_ about have a revolting smooch with Jonathan fucking Schlatt. And yes, that might've been down to the fact Schlatt looked far too fit for his own good in that stupid tux. But _still_.

To add insult to injury, Wilbur's shadow towered over her and greeted Vera with a shit-eating grin.

"Wilbur..." She pleaded.

But, again, this was Wilbur. And Wilbur rarely did not stay silent. " _Oooh_ , yeah I'll ignore him, _yeah, yeah_ I got you, Wilbur. Yeah, I'll _completely_ avoid him!'" He gloated, mocking her high voice. "And then you go off bloody dancing with him! Honestly, Vera, you're... you're..." He burst out in laughter that seemed like he'd pried into her thoughts at that moment. He rubbed her shoulder and smiled down at her. 

She couldn't stand this. She needed to get absolutely hammered and forget that this section of the night never happened. 

"Wilbur, let's get pissed. I want my stomach fucking pumped."  
  


"As long as our insurance covers it... I'd thought you'd never ask."

Vera and Wilbur made their way over to the bar, sat down and got to work.

And an hour or so later, it had struck half-past ten when Vera finally glanced to her phone, perhaps double-taking at the sight because frankly, the world around her was spinning far too quickly for her to be paying complete attention to everything. In the hour she spent getting sloshed, Vera had mingled around with other vaguely recognisable streamers, small-talking her way around and trying her best not to fall asleep midway through a conversation. The most interesting anecdote she'd been told was how one Youtuber (who she could've sworn was Jake Paul, though this man had slightly messier hair) had gotten a penknife and shoved it down his _━_ well, it didn't matter where exactly this Jake Paul-replica shoved it, as long as it distracted Vera from the main problem at hand. 

But, the problem by that point, had been slowly fading into the void until the voice of Adam Aquino rang out throughout the tent. He'd ordered everyone, in his roughest New York accent, to gather around him so they could all take a group photo. Vera was proud that he managed to not slip an insult in there. Steadily hanging onto the sleeve of Wilbur's tweed jacket, they waddled over to the large group now crowding around Adam's tripod.

Adam was separating everyone and snapping at them where to stand like a very disorderly school photo, and Adam being the insulting photographer who snarkily tells them that their smile isn't big enough. Sadly she parted ways with Wilbur with an overdramatic wave and found herself being placed next to... her heart sank right down to her intestines and stayed there for longer than it should've.

Beside her was Schlatt and James bloody Charles, clutching onto Schlatt's arm as though his life depended on it. 

"Strike me fucking dead..." Vera uttered, keeping her gaze glued to the floor.

This was exactly what she'd been trying to avoid for the past hour. Schlatt and James' relentless flirting. It had been near-impossible to ignore, even if she had been across the tent from them. Schlatt laughed like a cackling dog and James had done nothing but whisper sweet nothings into Schlatt's ear and fondled any part of his body that was appropriate in public. But, this was going _too far_. Currently, Schlatt was sandwiched in between Vera and James like some awkward threesome and there was nothing Vera could do to escape.

Right now, they were wittering on about make-up in a greatly sensual way. Vera felt her soul die when she finally heard what they were talking about.

"... I do get it, but I don't really want somethin' stiff pokin' me in the eye like that, ya know?" Schlatt remarked casually.

James looked like he was hardly holding back a snort. "You know like, I got something stiff you can poke in your eye Sister..." His finger trailed down Schlatt's bicep as the younger shifted from foot to foot.

Vera audibly gagged, pounding on her chest. "Oh my fucking God."

For one brief moment, Schlatt made eye contact with Vera and there was nothing but smugness written in them, practically saying: _look at me dumb broad, I've got James Charles on my ass, and you have no one!_ Then cue an evil mastermind laugh. If Vera had to witness this any longer, she would genuinely die. With the largest scowl she could muster, Vera watched on (despite her mind yelling at her to stop) as James leaned into Schlatt's ear and whispered ever-so seductively. Schlatt had flashed so quickly from pale to red, it was almost like he was a broken traffic light. Whatever the fuck James had just told Schlatt, Vera did _not_ approve.

"You're so cute, like, _really_." James had started in Schlatt's ear, his finger still curling around his arm. "Sister Schlatt, you're adorable whenever you're around her. I mean, like, it's so obvious you like her, right?" He gestured over to Vera, who looked as though she was fading in and out of consciousness.   
  
  


Schlatt had choked _hard_ on his breath. He struggled and stammered to respond, because really, where the fuck had James managed to pull that completely ridiculous statement from? When he'd finally mustered enough breath to respond, all that came out was a mess of words that he'd have to clean up. 

"I _━ no_ _━_ what _━_ Jesus, James _━_ I... uh, no. Ya really, really shouldn't be, uh, saying stuff like that here." Schlatt had reprimanded, since Vera was right there! God knows what she would do if she found out James was talking about them. " _James_." He finished stiffly.

"Alright! Now y'all big smiles, especially you Carson!" Adam exclaimed from behind the camera, adjusting the lens and telling a few more people to bunch together. The random person beside Vera squeezed closer and so, Vera found herself pressed uncomfortably against Schlatt's side. "Right! Three, two, one!"

There was a bright flash and everyone relaxed again. 

"Alright! We'll get a few more in then we can call it a night!"  
  


During the short intermission where Adam rushed off to get a drink, the philandering only got worse between Schlatt and James. The older was now dragging his palm across Schlatt's thighs and Schlatt not only was smiling like an idiot, but he was endorsing it! Honestly, it sounded like a strange porno snatched straight out of the eighties. Something tight coiled in Vera's gut and she only hoped for the day she could smash James Charles' palette. Vera frankly had enough. James' hand was now lingering dangerously close to... Vera's only thought was to cha-cha slide her way between them. And so she did, and trampled over Schlatt's stupid big feet as she did so.

Oh God, she was about to fly straight into the lady with crutches again. Oh, shit _━_  
  


Vera had not fallen. Her small palm was entangled with someone else's. Her gaze shot up to a concerned looking Schlatt, clinging on as he brought her back up to balance and quickly dragged her in between himself and James. Success, her brain cried, well, not exactly but it was a somewhat success!

"You good, Vee?" Schlatt had leaned into her ear, steadying her wobbling around. Vera was close to catapulting him into the sun as he had yet to let go, but really, she did need the help. Vera nodded. "Are ya sure? Ya looking a bit weird, ya know... I ain't havin' ya be sick on me, alright?"

Nodding again, she didn't have the strength to tell him to stop fawning.

Vera didn't see the knowing look plastered plainly against James Charles' face, looking as though he were an oracle. Nor did she see Schlatt not-so-subtly telling James to sod off as he finally let go of Vera's hand and another flash ensued from Adam's camera as he returned. A few flashes later, and another burn in Vera's stomach, it was over and the crowd was quickly disintegrating away. The feeling crawling up Vera's throat, however, did not. Oh, she most definitely had one too many vodkas. Wilbur was absolutely going to kill her. But nevermind that, because if she wasn't careful the nausea now pressing at her tonsils would project all over James Charles' Marc Jacobs suit. 

Maybe if she stayed very still, her stomach would settle. She took slow, shallow breaths, and gradually the urge to sick up went from ‘it might be a good idea to move closer to the toilet, just in case' to 'danger! fucking danger!'

" _B-bollocks_..." Vera shivered, clamping her hand over her mouth and scampering to the toilets gingerly before Schlatt or James could process what Vera was doing.

She was hunched over the toilet in such a madly quick space of time, Vera hardly registered the sound of the door drumming its way open and shut behind her as another figure entered. Her guts were practically being carved out of herself and spilt into the bowl, but still, the person had taken gentle care in brushing her hair behind her nape and holding it still. The comfort of the warmth of this person tenderly patting her back and reassuring her that she'd be fine had almost subsided the alarming rolling in her gut into a simple unpleasant feeling. Vera wondered who exactly cared enough to do this for her?

"It's okay sister, go on... chug it out. It's okay sweetie, let it all out, okay? You'll be fine soon..." Oh, _God_. A harsh pang of guilt punctured her insides and she churned once more. When the moment passed, and Vera had finally subsided her sick, he threaded his fingers through her tresses and spoke. "I noticed that you had your eye on a certain someone tonight Vera, or am I like wrong?"  
  


Her voice croaked into the bowl. "Whaddya mean?"

" _Please_ Vera... I might not know you well, but you're so sweetly obvious about it. I could read your whole heart on your face tonight." 

"You wot?" Genuinely, she was confused. The copious amounts of alcohol she'd managed to shove down her throat didn't help with her reasoning either. What the fuck was he talking about?

"Schlatt."

Vera groaned, perching herself upon the toilet seat with her elbow. "Oh, for fucks sake... don't bring that fucking prick up now. I've already sick enough."

James attempted to probe deeper. "Sister, I'm being serious here. I know that you think that you completely want to curb stomp him but like, you've got to stop burying your head in the sand."

"Been speaking to Wilbur have you?" She snapped. Vera most certainly was _not_ having this conversation with James bloody Charles of all people.

"Well, yes, I kinda have but like," James paused, thinking of a way to not piss her off even more. "Look, Vera, I'm not gonna pretend that I'm as close with you as Wilbur is, and maybe I'm just reading everything wrong, but I do sense a _connection_?"

Vera snorted, remaining unimpressed. "Christ..."  
  


"No, no. Don't be like that... I just think that you should maybe, y'know, speak to Schlatt. In a more, like, tender way maybe?" James suggestion was practically going in one ear and out the other, but Vera did appreciate him trying to help. If Wilbur couldn't do anything, then James unfortunately stood no chance. "All I'm saying is that you are maybe, like, hiding your friendliness underneath a fiery hatred for him, you know?"

Oh. Well, he did have a point. 

"Vera, open up to me here." 

A brief moment of consideration passed and Vera decided, fuck it, what was there to lose? James Charles didn't look like the type to blabber or accidentally spill, unlike Wilbur. As lovely as Wilbur was, a secret or two would accidentally pass out of his mouth and so, Vera's trust would dwindle. 

"James, he's a fucking arsehole... but he's a really fucking fit arsehole you know? Like _God_ , I would one hundred per cent sacrifice him first if I was stranded on an island with him and I would totally use him as a human shield if someone was trying to assassinate me. I also wouldn't mind if he took an accidental tumble down the stairs, but then I would also maybe... like, I dunno... I..." Vera hesitated, pondering if she really should be confessing _that_ much. "Snogging him senseless really wouldn't be that bad of an idea? I _━ I_ can't believe I just said that. Well, anyway, never mind that. I do really dislike him and he is such a giant dickwad but I can't... fuck... I can't fucking help it! He is just very aesthetically pleasing to me."  
  


James was chuckling by that point. "There you go! See, it wasn't that hard was it, Vera?"

Uncomfortable as it was, she knew that he was right.

Needless to say, Jonathan Schlatt had enjoyed his night very well, thank you very much. And it was astonishing as to how he did that without the help of alcohol, unlike the other ninety per cent of the party. Despite being surrounded by drunkards and not having the faintest clue who half the people in attendance were, he did have fun. Whether it had been shovelling chocolate-covered strawberries down Cooper's throat, watching Ted and Travis have a disturbing arm-wrestling competition on top of Charlie's back or of course, being touched by James Charles. Though, nothing brought him more joy than watching a drunk Vera mingle with Jake Paul (how he was miraculously invited, Schlatt would never know) and trodding on her feet when they poorly danced together.

Being perfectly honest, Schlatt wasn't even sure if he would even get a glimpse at Vera that night. When her and Wilbur had arrived, he'd overheard _━_ no, well, maybe he was spying _━_ them discussing him. Admittedly, his spirits dampened slightly when Vera had said she hated him and she'd try and avoid him. But, hey, who was laughing now? Well, still Vera when she mocked his dance moves but still. And of course, he had to profess that Vera really wasn't that bad looking in the white silk dress that he'd assisted in buying. Perhaps, that was a slight understatement. Vera really was quite a pleasure to look at that night, even when she was on the verge of projectile vomiting, and yes, maybe Schlatt had gotten slightly winded when he saw her for the first time that night. It was lovely seeing her not look so much like a garden gnome.

The night had died by this point, nearing almost half-past twelve. There was a low and dull babel travelling throughout the room from the twenty or so remaining stragglers, most of whom were too off their face to move from their position or the five or so people still having a very aggressive battle over Wii-sports in the corner. Carson had already left in his ruddy pink limousine with most of the others who were staying at his Airbnb and James Charles left five minutes later, planting a kiss on the cheek before leaving. Wilbur, Vera and Adam had presumably left at some point before then as Schlatt hadn't seen either of them since Vera had claimed her seat back at the bar. She'd swigging back a large tower of shots, despite Wilbur's desperate pleas. 

And so, it was about time Schlatt left too. 

He'd been halfway to the small curtain that separated the outside from the tent when he froze. Schlatt heard something along the lines of 'God, are you alright in the head mate' that was quickly accompanied by a distinct little giggle. Ah, of course, Vera. Somehow, the girl hadn't been knocked unconscious to the myriad of around twenty-five shots of vodka and was thriving. Well, thriving as well as someone who was on the verge of getting their stomach pumped. Schlatt was about to ignore whatever she was doing and head home... until he saw what exactly Vera was _doing_.

Timourously, Schlatt lingered.

Vera was deep in conversation with some random man who'd Schlatt never had the discomfort to see in his life. She was playing the polite little act she had done with the rest of the people socialized with that night, though this time, she was marvellously off her rocker and slurring every word so harshly that Schlatt could hardly understand a word she was saying. Dazed as ever, Vera shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another as the man inched closer to her position against one of the sides of the tent. Schlatt really shouldn't have been thinking about the sudden enormous pressure that swelled in his chest at the sight and the sensation that rocked inside his stomach violently. 

Squinting now, Schlatt gazed on as the man traced a sleazy finger upon Vera's cheeks then entangled that same finger with a strand of her hair.

"...baby girl, why don't you make yourself useful and go somewhere with me." The creepiness oozing from the man was almost unbearable. By this point, Vera was vigorously shaking her head and her familiar scowl was spread across her face. "Doll, don't play hard to get with me... I know exactly what sweethearts like you want at the end of the day and frankly, there is nothing better than my co _━"  
  
_

"Heyy, how's it going Vera?" Schlatt had strode over before he'd registered what he was doing. Vera gazed up at him with such relief as the terror that shivered in her eyes subsided. 

The man glowered at Schlatt, attempting to size up the sudden intrusion. "Who the hell are you?"

Feigning innocence as though he hadn't seen what the fuck had just played out before him, Schlatt gave an inquisitive look. "Is this man botherin' you, Vera?"

"I _━_ uh..."  
  


"'Cause I think he is..." Schlatt eyed up the man with a certain smugness.

"What are you talking about, bro? This doll totally fucking digs me." The man scoffed, looking as though Schlatt had told him that he was adopted. "See look at her, she's practically screaming for me."

Schlatt gave one good glance over at Vera, whose eyes were practically bulging out of her skull in sheer disbelief and had the same look on her face as the time Adam bloody Aquino had given her the laxatives. Vera opened her mouth to speak and then closed, wordless.

"If ya call that screamin' for ya then I must be Helen fuckin' Keller. Now, you listen to me, _bro,_ " Schlatt sneered, his lips curling and flicking a contemptuous glance the man's way. "I'd really appreciate it if you made yourself useful and left her alone."

In obvious defeat, the man raised his hands up pathetically and sighed. "God, jeez man, relax. I'm goin', alright?" And so Schlatt had successfully defused the situation before it had even begun, well, that was until the man gave a quick look over his shoulder and winked at Vera, biting his lip with an abnormal smirk.

Vera stood speechless, gathering her thoughts and switching her gaze between the creepy man leaving the tent and Schlatt. If that was anybody else, Vera would've thanked them for saving her but the alcohol had gotten far too deep into her head by that point, and frankly, she wasn't exactly thinking straight at all. She wasn't thankful, or even remotely pleased. Vera was absolutely fuming. The gall of Schlatt to swoop in and think that he was the prince charming that saved her from a situation! Glazing a disdainful frown upon her face, Vera scorned.

"I could've done that myself, you know." Vera snapped.

He wasn't in the slightest convinced. "I don't think so, dumb broad."

Vera had had enough of Schlatt for one night and right on cue, Wilbur had made his exit from the toilet and returned to Vera's side, quietly complaining about how his bum hurt. The small smile on Wilbur's face faltered, knowing that something had just happened judging by the sharp looks crossed upon the face of each other and just hoped that one of them hadn't pulled a knife out. Wilbur made some small talk before Adam also emerged from the toilet and so, they all bid their goodbyes to Schlatt. Disappearing from the tent locked in dull conversation, Schlatt couldn't help but let a feeling of dread sink over him.

During the long ride back to Adam's flat, Vera pressed her head up against the window and let out a drawling sigh. Vera was in one hell of a predicament now. You see, Vera had grown to rather tolerate Schlatt and really, she was not enjoying the feeling of being somewhat comfortable around him at all. And so, she attempted to remind herself all the reasons why she shouldn't fall into the trap of somewhat liking him.

First, he was a bumbling arsehole. Second, he was an annoyingly good-looking bumbling arsehole. Third, he was practically leeching off of her and her fans blossomed in it. Fourth, he was unbelievably rude and fifth, and probably most important, he was Jonathan sodding Schlatt.

"You're right..." She said, mumbling to herself in a drunken haze. "You're absolutely right..."  
  


Because he was Jonathan sodding Schlatt. And Vera was beginning to suspect that was exactly the problem.


End file.
